“They were different people then Sarah, they were soldiers in the First World War, probably living under huge stress and fear and as I said it was touch and go with mother and me apparently.”
“And your mother never met anyone else after your father died, surprising really because even now she's so beautiful she must have been stunning then.”
“She did meet someone, during the last war she went out a few times with Edwin Scott, he was the village doctor when they moved to Top Cottage. He and Charles became friends and he came to the house a lot, in fact, he delivered Jules. He and mother got very close which didn't please Alexander one bit. Clive told me that when he was just a boy Margaret Donaldson remarked on it to Alexander and he lost his temper and called her all sorts of rude names.”
“So what happened?”
“Goodness knows, there was so much going on around that time, Barbara and Charles got back together and married and moved into Top Cottage with Clive. Jules was a baby also living, there, Claudine was killed in an air-raid and I was at sea, or ill in hospital so I suppose everyone had other things to think about but I always thought Edwin Scott still had feelings for Mother.”
“There's also another problem Max if you're up to it.”
He groaned, “Can I be on light duties at home as well?”
“It's David,” said Sarah.
“David! I thought for once he wasn't a problem. He seems to be doing so well in the navy, his letters are full of it.”
“It's not the navy, Max he blames himself for you having a heart attack, he thinks it was the shock of you seeing him in uniform. He doesn't understand what happened but he thinks it's all his fault and I think you're going to have to explain what happened to you when you were in the navy and why you feel as you do.”
Max suddenly stood up and noisily pushed his chair back. “I can't,” he said sharply. “Not at the moment, I can't talk about it, not for you, not even for David. I'm sorry, but I can't.”
“So much for the new calm and serene Max Darrington,” said Sarah, she smiled, but his face was grim.
“It's got nothing to do with my illness, it's in the past and that's where it should stay.”
*
Leon Bauerman swivelled from side-to-side in the large leather armchair, “Talk to me, Max.” He leaned forward and grinned, “Your secrets are safe with me. What was it you did or did not do before you were hurled into the sea? “I committed murder. What did you do?” The smile faded from his pale face and his voice became serious, “In the future there will be generations of young men with dark secrets locked away in the cellars of their minds. While they are young and strong they will stand firmly on the trapdoors of those cellars refusing to let out the horrors but when they grow older and too weak to keep the trapdoors shut, the demons will push through and escape to trouble their dreams.” He stood up and went to the door then turned back, his face was grey and haunted. “Goodbye Max we shall not meet again.”
“No. Leon, don't go! Please, I'm not ready. There are other things, I haven't told you everything please come back. I don't want to go into the water again. Leon wait, please wait!”
*
Max woke up with Sarah shaking him roughly, he was sweating and didn't recognise her. He gasped for breath pushing the sheets away from his face, “I must get out of the water.”
“Max wake up you're having a nightmare. Max!
“Don't leave me, Claudine,” he yelled, then opened his eyes to Sarah's hurt face.
*
Clarissa opened the cottage door, “I didn't realise you were walking Max,” she kissed him on the cheek, “I was listening for the car. Is it all right for you to climb the hill?”
Max kissed her on the cheek, “Yes it's fine Mother, in fact, it's just what the doctor ordered that's the treatment now. No sickly invalid taking things easy, I have to keep myself fit and healthy.”
“Well, you certainly look fit and I hear from Sarah that you're going back to work, that's wonderful news.” She ushered him in, “Charles and Alexander are in the garden. Just go through and we'll have coffee out there.”
He put his hand on her arm, “Sarah told me about Alexander, I'm so very sorry Mother.”
She nodded sadly, “Yes we all are, but we don't talk about it Max.” She held up her hands, her palms and long fingers facing him she crossed them gently back and forth as if preventing the conversation. “We go on as usual and refuse to let it spoil the time we have left together, the three of us.” She turned and led the way through to the house and into the garden, “Look who's here! Go and sit down Max and I'll get the coffee.”
Like relics of a more genteel age, Charles and Alexander sat in wooden and canvas deck chairs beneath the flowering shrubs that climbed the garden fence. They were reading the morning papers and smoking, Charles his pipe and Alexander a cigarette. They both wore straw hats and their only concessions to casual dress on this bright sunny morning were rolled up shirt sleeves and the absence of ties.
“Come and sit here,” Charles said taking his pipe from his mouth and pointing it at a spare deck chair next to him. “Good to see you looking so well Max.”
Alexander waved a hand, “I hear the young ones are to reproduce again and there are to be more Darringtons running amok around the place.”
Max stared at him unable to quite believe his time was almost done, and already feeling the vastness of the void his passing would leave, something of them all would die with him. He was in his seventies and looked it but showed no sign of weariness or fear, the aggressive humour, so much part of his character, still emanated from him. Max searched the craggy face for some indication of impending death, averting his eyes only when he realised AlexÂander was looking straight back at him. Could he see into his soul? If so he would see such sadness.
The garden was in full bloom and the air was still and gloriously fresh, the quietness broken only by birdsong. Clarissa carried out a tray of coffee and homemade biscuits and sat down. “Isn't it just a perfect morning?” she beamed, “I'm so glad you came today, Max.”
Handing the cups around, she sat back contentedly between Charles and Alexander. It was a scene Max had witnessed a thousand times, but Sarah's questions had reminded him that the story behind the picture remained shrouded in mystery. At intervals, they had separated, but some irresistible force, whatever its origin, had always drawn them together again and he never could decide if it had been a positive or negative factor in their lives. It was just so.
Footsteps and the chatter of children's voices announced the arrival of Clive and his family at the side garden gate. “We knocked at the front door,” called Carol cheerfully, “but you didn't hear us.”
They always seemed so happy and uncomplicated to Max. Like his father, Clive was handsome and having inherited a fortune from his parents could have had his pick of occupations and partners but was content to be a village parson and had eyes for no-one but Carol the plain, good-natured daughter of the late Reverend and Margaret Donaldson.
Clarissa hugged them both and the children kissed everyone. Vanessa made her way to Charles and sat on the grass next to his deckchair. Having spent years believing he would have none, Charles adored all his grandchildren but after Barbara died and Vanessa daily grew to look more like her, he had difficulty concealing his undoubted favouritism.
Thirteen-year-old Julia was the beauty of the family favouring her great-aunt Clarissa. She sat beside Grandpa Alex who poked fun at her short skirt comparing it to an army belt he had once worn. The young girl smiled condescendingly and kissed his forehead. Alexander was her great-uncle but from an early age she had worried about him having no grandchildren. So, in spite of his constant assurances that he disliked children intensely, she had adopted him as Grandpa Alex and he was secretly delighted to be referred to as such by all the children in the family.
“Isn't it wonderful about the new babies,” Carol said enthusiastically.
Everyone agreed except Alexander, who, much to the amusement of the adults gave forth a tirade about such irresponsibility with the exploding population and standing room only being imminent.
“Babies are born to replace the people who are going to die,” Julia suddenly stated seriously. Clarissa spilled her coffee. The others glanced at each other but not at Alexander. Sensing she had said something significant the child coloured and looked at Clive, “Isn't that right Daddy? That's what you said when Grannie Barbara died, people die and go to heaven and babies take their place.”
Before Clive could answer Alexander gently touched her head, “That's true, Julia your daddy is absolutely right. I was only joking. It is wonderful that we're to have new children in the family.” She smiled thankfully and giggled when he added, “I'm just a silly old man and I worry about Christmas and birthdays and all the money I have to spend on so many gifts.” He shuddered with mock horror and everyone joined in with relieved laughter.
Clarissa went to make more coffee. Max followed and found her weeping in the kitchen, “I don't know how I shall bear it Max. He's been at my side since your father died, since before your father died and life without him seems inconceivable.” She looked up and spoke urgently, “There are things that bind us together, the three of us, things no-one else knows about, things we can't ⦔ She suddenly stopped and looked almost frightened, but when she didn't continue Max folded his large arms around her, he could offer nothing other than his love.
When the Longfields left, Max begged a lift and found himself squashed into their large station wagon, the youngest child Susie on his lap and the other children plus a large Old English sheepdog occupying every square inch of space.
“You're back early. How were they all at Top Cottage?” Sarah sat at the dining-room table and gave him a fleeting smile.
“Very well really, we had coffee out in the garden and it was beautiful up there. Alexander was exactly the same, grumpy and amusing, Mother was a bit upset but that's to be expected. Clive and Carol and the children called in so they gave me a lift home.” Sarah nodded then looked down at her hands that were spread flat on the table concealing something. “What's that?” Max asked.
“Nothing,” she said quickly and then looking embarrassed lifted her fingers. “It's a photograph of Claudine. I was doing a clean out while you were in hospital and I found it in a box in the safe. I'd never seen it before. I didn't realise how very beautiful she was.”
“Why have you got it out now?”
“Why did you keep it?”
“I kept it for Jules. He never knew her and I thought one day he might ask what she was like, but so far he hasn't shown the slightest curiosity about Claudine. To be honest, I'd forgotten all about it. I put that part of my life behind me, too many bad memories. Alexander collected a box of my belongings from the navy when I left and when we moved in here I dumped it in the safe.”
“She looks very like Jules, or should I say Jules looks like her.”
“Yes, well that's what I mean. I never saw my father or my grandfather but as a child I always wondered what they looked like and wanted to see photographs of them and just because Jules doesn't show an interest doesn't mean his children won't.”
Sarah kept her eyes on the photograph. They had become awkward with one another and Max hated it. Their marriage had always been one of open good humour regardless of what was happening but lately they picked their words carefully watching for each other's reactions.
“Sarah, what's this all about?” Max asked sharply.
“It's the dreams Max, nearly every night I have to wake you, you scream and shout and wake up terrified and you always call out for Claudine. Why is that? You must have loved her very much. I suppose I'm being silly, but it's making me very insecure especially when I see how very beautiful she was.”
Max sat down beside her and spoke softly, “When I married Claudine I'd only known her a few months, she was pregnant, there was a war on and we gave no thought whatever about tomorrow because we didn't know if there would be one. It was the biggest mistake I ever made, for her and for me. Yes, she was beautiful and yes, I thought I was madly in love with her but I wasn't. I didn't even know her and she turned out to be selfish and unfaithful and didn't even love our son. Believe me even if she hadn't died, the marriage was over. The only good thing to come out of the whole mess was Jules and you became his mother and you've loved him as much as Heather and our other children.”
“But these nightmares Max, they started when I told you about David and they're not going to go away until you face up to what happened to you during the War. Won't you at least talk to me about it? I've never asked you before because we agreed to forget the past, but now the past is reaching forward and destroying your relationship with your son. I think you must talk to him otherwise he's going to go through life with this tremendous guilt hanging around his neck.”
Max sounded exasperated, “My having a heart attack had nothing to do with David joining the navy. How many times do I have to say it? I told you and him at the time, I'd been feeling ill all day. Can you imagine what it's like listening to someone tell you the details of how they raped and murdered a ten-year-old girl and then face her parents? For a stress factor that's pretty high.”
“Don't get defensive Max and don't raise your voice. You're getting agitated at the very mention of this problem. If you can't talk to me or to David perhaps you should talk to some else,” she hesitated, “someone professional, a psychiatrist or someone.”
“No,” he said emphatically, “I did that during the war and it created as many problems as it solved but I'll write to David. He has nothing to feel guilty about. I'm very happy he's found his niche in life. Now please put the photograph back where you found it and try to remember that although I don't tell you nearly often enough, I love you more than anything or anyone I've ever loved and always will.”